Allotment Wassailing

Photos Copyright: Maggie May

The weather was sunny but crisp. There was activity on the local allotment. People were heading there in dribs and drabs, families mostly but older people went too.

What could be driving so many to visit the community orchard on our local district allotment?

Today was Wassailing Day.

An ancient tradition in the south of England that attempts to get the sap rising in the apple trees and encourage them to start to grow. This involved putting toast that had been dipped in cider, on a tree branch. Getting the children to bang on tins to get rid of all the bugs lurking around and pouring last year's cider around the apple trees to get them to produce more apples.

It was mainly aimed at the children and they all seemed to participate in this ancient fun tradition.

I normally go with my granddaughters, however, they now have to go to Japanese School with their mother every Saturday. Other years, Sam has taken part in the Morris Dancing display, but sciatica has prevented him from taking part since last summer. Even though the pain has much improved since he stopped dancing, he didn't feel he could risk starting another flare up of pain.

Still, it was good to catch up with the others who I'd got to know and exchange a few words with them and to watch them dance.

This was perhaps the biggest crowd of people who had attended since the first time that I'd ever witnessed it.

Things change with time and never stay the same.

Last year, I wrote about a similar visit on Wassailing Day.

The allotments (plots of land for growing vegetables and fruits), are good places to snap up scenes with a camera. There are always little nooks and crannies that I find fascinating.

After spending an hour or two in the cold, I was glad of a hot cup of tea when I got home and to toast my cold fingers and toes in front of the gas fire. Then there was the prospect of a Chinese take away that Harry always seems to get on a Saturday (no matter how he is feeling) and a cosy evening in watching TV or reading. Contentment.

Do others take pleasure in doing such basic, maybe boring things?

Wassailing

Photos Copyright: Maggie May

I recently wrote about a walk round the allotments.

They are not normally open to the public and usually there are locked gates on all allotments and only genuine tenants get a key.

On that occasion though, there was a function for the public to attend because of the celebration of Wassailing.

Although I am not a bit interested in the Wassailing ceremonies, I do appreciate that there is a communal orchard there and in the autumn the produce is sold off towards the maintenance etc. On this occasion, there was a cake stall. I am all for small communities getting together to support this kind of activity.

There was also some Morris Dancing which my son, Sam, usually takes part in. However he is struggling with back and ankle problems at the moment so he likes to attend these functions but doesn't aways feel up to taking part.

I am, at present, making a green rag jacket for Amber, who has passed the one I made for her last year on to her younger sister, Millie because it is a bit tight. The new one is going to be a much bigger size.

While I was at the allotments, I took a photo of these teasels and the catkins.

There doesn't seem to be much going on in my own garden, but on closer examination, I see snowdrops peeping through.

Some of my shrubs have been severely damaged by the bad winter and only time will tell whether that damage will be permanent. I feel it is never a good idea to chop things up without giving them a chance to recover.

I keep having to remind myself that there are at least two months left that we could have more snow and severe frost. Heres hoping that Spring weather is really on the way.

This weekend was The RSPB Great Garden Birdwatch.

Although I watched for the required hour, only three house sparrows and a wood pigeon came to my garden. At one time my garden was teeming with birds.

Have other people noticed a decline in garden birds?

The Allotments

Photo Copyright: Maggie May

At first sight, I thought this was just an ordinary signpost but when I looked behind it I noticed the tiny insect house.

Recently, I happened to be near some allotments and I thought there were some very interesting things there. I usually take my camera wherever I go so used the opportunity to take photos.

There isn't much going on in my garden. In fact it looks quite dreary and lifeless at the moment. The allotment seemed much more exciting.

These beehives look interesting. I'm not sure whether there are any occupants hibernating or not. A queen perhaps?

I was not going to look.

This little fire was being used as a place to make toast. There was a group of people nearby.

The fencing made quite a good photo, I thought and I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't a home to lots of creatures hibernating underneath.

However, this is perhaps, a little home to something covered with prickles.

Maybe Beatrix Potter's Mrs Tiggy-Winkle.

Hope you enjoyed my little stroll.

To Autumn

Photos copyright: Maggie May

The clocks went back one hour last night so we are really entering winter time but as far as I am concerned it is Autumn. I hate the clocks going back one hour and would sooner leave things as they were, having really dark mornings but lighter evenings.

These photos are a selection from a recent walk. I am sometimes really pleased that my camera lives in my bag, so that I can snap the unexpected whenever I want.

I walked through an archway that divided some allotments and I think this arch had crab apples trained over it.

The girls were walking on ahead through the archway.

I encountered some lovely berries and brightly coloured plants.

I am reminded of John Keats poem, To Autumn.

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

Conspiring with him how to load and bless

With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;

To bend with apples the moss'd cottage trees

And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,

And still more, later for the bees,

Until they think warm days will never cease,

For summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cells.